


Deepsea Dreamscapes

by prettycallous



Series: In Adoration of the Abyss [2]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Dominant Kylo Ren, Established Relationship, F/M, Interspecies Romance, Mating Bond, Mermaid!Kylo Ren, Mermaid!Phasma, Mostly The Last Jedi, Naga!Hux, No (Y/N) or Acronyms, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert, References to Canon, Some Star Wars Technology, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-08-20 08:45:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16552619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettycallous/pseuds/prettycallous
Summary: Did you expect to live happily-ever-after when you took his hand and walked into the sea? You don't know what happened to Ariel and Prince Eric after the credits rolled on their story, but it probably wasn't anything like this.Sorry, little starfish, but nothing comes easy. You're going to have to earn your happy ending.





	1. Before the Beginning

Emperor Ren could feel the disquiet within the Tide. The closer he came to the capital, the stronger it grew.

One of the Knights accompanying him noticed his anxiety and muttered, “I feel it too, master.”

Ren cast his awareness to his other subordinates as their mounts cut through the water: two of his Knights of Ren—Malan and Suanis, ten Stormtroopers, and their Captain. Only his Knights seemed uneasy since they were also strong with the Tide, but they didn't know what to make of the vague sense of foreboding either. A vein ticked under Ren’s tired eye. If something had happened while he was away on this pointless “diplomacy” mission, Hux wouldn't survive his next tongue-lashing. The merfolk continued on their undersea journey homeward on a less scenic route that took them through open ocean, only stopping for a short rest to feed the mantas they were riding and stretch their own fins.

“Captain Phasma. A word,” Ren called, turning his helmeted head toward her. When he spoke, it ominously distorted his voice.

The meri dutifully glided over in her articulated armor, covered head-to-hip in trilobite scales that gleamed like chrome. A crimson shimmersilk cape dripped down from her pauldrons, matching Emperor Ren’s own fluttering black cape.

“Yes, _ner_ _kandosii?”_

Her emperor requested that she contact the lieutenant back at the palace for a status report. Immediately, Phasma pulled out the small, circular scrying mirror that would connect her to the lieutenant and sent off a short message. Scrying unfortunately wasn't instantaneous, so it was another tense half-hour before they heard back.

As Phasma held the mirror in her hand, a tiny and ghostly replica of Lieutenant Mitaka appeared over it and told her that nothing of note has happened within the capitol. The emperor did not seem assuaged in the slightest.

“We're moving on!” he barked and the small squadron rallied once more.

Due to the emperor's growing paranoia, they made a half-cycle journey in only eight hours.

Just outside the city, the few manta-led caravans and free-swimmers on the waterway were led to the side to make room for Emperor Ren’s squadron. A great cliffside loomed ahead of them and within that rocky façade was a huge jagged opening. Time-worn runes and bas-relief sculptures decorated its edges, spattered with lush green algae. Dozens of ivory-armored figures with spears were on guard at both sides and bowed slightly as their emperor swam by. The opening lead to a tunnel so big that it could comfortably fit two more of their party abreast, above, and below.

When the tunnel reached its end, the glittering capital of Coruscant welcomed the weary travelers. It was a wide ravine that wasn't too far below the surface for the moonlight to reach, with luminescent crystals and algae helping to scatter the lingering shadows. The merfolk built their city in the walls of the ravine, carving up the stone to their cyclopean predilections and burrowing into the cliffs like ants. Straight ahead, the ravine walls met and housed a massive structure that sprouted from the stone in tiers. It was the palace, a jewel of architecture covered in coral gardens and sea glass, and the place Emperor Ren called home.

Lieutenant Mitaka met the squadron at the docking bay, a sight that did not help the emperor's dark mood.

“Welcome back,  _ kando—” _

_ “Where is Hux?” _ Ren snapped after dismounting.

The pale meri visibly flinched at the harsh tone and stumbled over his next words. “Th-the general l-left the city earlier today. He was due back hours ago, but has yet to return,  _ ner kandosii.” _

“Left the city? For what reason?”

“M-my apologies, h-he didn't inform me...”

Sensing things were about to get out of hand, Suanis Ren swam to her master's side and spoke gently. “My master, all seems to be as it should, so perhaps we should revisit this in the morning. Weariness often muddles wariness.”

The emperor didn't  _ want  _ to revisit this in the morning and no, not everything was as it should be. His senses were telling him  _ something _ was wrong, but his Knight had a point. He was practically dead on his fins and without anything concrete to justify his anxiety, there was no use in raising hell at this point in time. Ren swallowed back his anger and retired to his chambers in a huff.

He attempted to contact General Hux through scrying and there was no response.

-*-

What paltry bit of sleep he claimed was haunted by inchoate, shadowy threats. He eventually reawakened with a start, his heart pounding and a disturbing scent in his nostrils.

_ Blood. _

There was blood in the water.

He shot out of his nest and grabbed his bladed trident as that vague uneasiness in the Tide exploded into blaring alarms. There was a crash outside his chambers followed by angry shouts and he swam into the hall amidst utter  _ chaos. _

Stormtroopers and officers firing on one another, Captain Phasma—sans armor—crossing swords with...one of  _ his Knights??  _ Ren hovered in shock at the unbelievable scene until a blaster bolt grazed his tail and made him yell from the pain. Phasma turned at the sound, sheer panic drawn over her usually stoic features.

_ “Kandosii— _ it's a  _ coup! _ Get to sa—” her words died in her throat as it was separated from the rest of her body.

Ren was almost too stunned to block the Knight who came charging through the sanguine cloud that now colored the water, knocking Phasma’s severed head away. He ignited the prongs of his trident and the preternatural red flames met those of Suanis’ broadsword.

“Suanis!” he grunted. “What is the meaning of this?!”

He loathed how the betrayal made his voice waver and crack.

Her orange eyes flared within her helm. “You've lost your way, Kylo. You're broken; as unstable as that crystal in your trident!”

Suanis broke the blade lock and aimed a strike toward Kylo’s belly, which he moved to block. But it was a clever feint. Instead, her sword cut across his neck and he would've met Phasma’s fate if he hadn't used the Tide to force her back some centimeters. As powerful as Kylo was, Suanis was more prepared for this fight and she quickly disarmed him with a strong swipe of her tail.

“How could I possibly follow someone so  _ weak?  _ How could the  _ meri?” _ she spat.

With a tightened fist, Suanis commanded the Tide to bind Kylo, forcing him into immobility. When he continued to thrash and scream, she used her cruel fingers to sear him with lightning until his nerves burned in agony and his vocal chords broke. Whether it was moments or eons later, he eventually fell limp. The treacherous Stormtroopers swam into formation beside Suanis as she dragged him through the palace. He bore witness to the destructive power of this coup through half-lidded eyes...blaster bolts scarred stone walls and pillars, murky clouds of gore surrounded lifeless forms as they floated amongst shattered armor and debris.   
  
They all looked like Phasma.   
  
“Where... are you taking me?” Kylo rasped through bloody lips, his head rolling bonelessly on his shoulders.   
  
Suanis smiled. “To see the emperor, of course.”

-*-

It hurt to also see Typho Ren at the side of General Hux in the throne room. The betrayal of two of his most trusted Knights… it hurt worse than anything he felt since his old life, before he killed the child and raised up the Knight in the Dark. Was this how his master felt when he realized it was the apprentice who cut him down and not the enemy?

Hux looked entirely too pleased with himself. Someone had given him Kylo's trident and he held it as if it had always belonged to him. The naga circled around his captive, the copper scales on his snake-like tail glittering like the triumph in his eyes as he took in Kylo's defeated state. Hux flicked out his forked tongue in hopes of tasting Kylo's fear, but he was disappointed to find only blood and stale adrenaline in the water.

“You know, my father underestimated me too,” the serpentine general opined. “Everyone did, actually. They expected great things from me because of who my father was, but they never thought I would even match his accomplishments, let alone surpass them. Yet surpass them I did.”

Kylo chortled weakly. “Is there a point to this monologue, Hux? You're so dramatic…”

“You utter  _ hypocrite,” _ Hux scowled. “If you weren't so impatient, you'd come to understand. My father didn't understand in the end, either. It's probably the one regret I have...that he never knew it was his own son who pulled the trigger.”

The information is news to Kylo, but unsurprising. He never really trusted this slimy bastard and  _ Kylo's _ one regret would forever be that he didn't bisect Hux along with Snoke.

Hux nodded to Suanis and she sent more lightning into her former master's bound body. The pain was immense and ripped unwanted screams from Kylo's throat. Tears gathered at the corners of his eyes, as much from rage as they were from the torture. When Kylo's head rolled on his neck after the assault and he dropped his gaze toward the ground, Hux used the trident to gently lift Kylo's chin, forcing their eyes to connect.

“I’m not making the same mistake with you,” Hux promised, leaning in close. “I want to look you in the eye when you realize that I never believed that  _ lie _ about the scavenger...and you reap  _ what you sow.” _

Hux didn't have the power to call the flames to the trident, but it was still a bladed weapon that easily split Kylo's skin open when it was slashed across his body. The blow cut from his shoulder to his brow and knocked his head back, stealing his consciousness away. Hux was practically panting as he relished in his victory, watching Kylo's blood muddy the water with manic eyes.   
  
After a long silence, Suanis hesitantly spoke up. “Should I take him to the dungeons...  _ ner kandosii?” _   
  
Hux slowly seemed to come back to himself as he thought over his answer.   
  
“...No,” he finally said through a clenched jaw. “No, beach him! I want his death to be slow and lonely.”   
  
Later, Hux watched his naga officers as they dragged Kylo's unconscious form, restrained in netting, up the beach and to the mouth of a cave.   
  
The naga emperor used these final moments to gloat over his fallen rival, looking down on Kylo from the full height of his tail.   
  
“Since you love your scavengers so much, you can feed them,” he sneered and slithered back beneath the waves.

-*-

When Kylo next awoke, broken and betrayed and disoriented, it was to the silhouette of his savior: a little starfish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: There aren't any words for king or emperor in Mando'a, so I had to hijack another known word. Originally it was al'verde (commander), but I've decided to make it kandosii (ruthless) so that it matches what you're called, kandosii'la (stunning).


	2. After the End

As it turns out, Kylo Ren is a sea witch.

You first witnessed it when he stole a kiss by the coral and gave you the ability to breathe in the sea, and again when you followed him beneath the waves that fateful morning. He spoke some spell into the water that coaxed giant manta rays to you and they took you back to his breathtaking empire. He could command the ocean currents to his will. He could raise up animated constructs of fishbones and sand—droids, he called them—that tended his palace. He could even ignite an impossible fire along the blades of his trident.

It seemed Kylo Ren could do anything…

 _Except_ the one thing he promised you.

The first attempt to turn you into a mermaid was uncomfortable and anticlimactic. An intricate ritual involving Kylo's blood and other unsavory things, it left you feeling nauseous and sore for hours afterward. You were rightly disappointed by the failure, but Kylo was _devastated_ and cut the makeshift altar apart in violent retribution, something that was honestly a bit frightening to experience. His anger was so great that it bubbled over like a forgotten pot and burned the surface of your mood, bleeding through until it was as red as his own. The dichotomy of raging _with_ him and worrying _over_ him was overwhelming, but you still wanted to comfort him the best you could.

When the outburst was over, you swam cautiously over to him as his body heaved with exertion and he dropped the fiery trident from boneless arms. Taking his face in your hands so he'd look at you, you had silently asked him how you could help.

He fearfully stared back at you, voice raw with emotion when he answered, “Wait for me...please. I-I'll figure this out.”

Out of options for now, he enchanted a room in the palace to act as a reverse fishbowl for you. A more permanent solution since constantly making out to maintain the water-breathing charm isn't exactly practical. The room is spacious, decorated beautifully with intricate stonework and colorful tiles set into the walls. Kylo even had a whale bone table set made for you after you explained the concept of chairs to him. You placed it in front of the large seaglass window that overlooked the city so you could watch the elegant merfolk swim by while you ate.

Like a waterlogged Rapunzel, you wait in your tower for your dark prince to kiss away the curse of humanity that keeps you bound to this _god damned_ room. You try not to show your frustration, truly you do, but days will go by where you don't see or talk to Kylo because he’s so busy with his magical research and ruling an empire. The mental connection you share is detrimental at times like these, since the negative emotions feed off of each other and grow stronger than they would be otherwise. With nothing to do to burn off this energy and nowhere to go, this purgatory feels more like hell.

Sitting at your table with your chin in your hand, you sigh at the grumpy visage that's reflected in the window. It's been weeks since you were locked up in this bubble. Though stunning, the monotonous scenery is driving you a bit stir-crazy.

If only you could join the fantastical world outside this window instead of just watching. Stagnating.

You glance half-heartedly at the three seashells that are lined up on the table. Somehow, they're part of a game that Bazine spent almost an hour trying to teach you, insisting that it could be played solo, but it made more sense to you with at least two players.

You resist the petty urge to sweep them onto the floor.

A strange noise suddenly draws your eye to the door. Well, it’s not _really_ a door, more like an opaque membrane that fills the archway like the extra eyelids of a cat. A lot of the “technology” down here is either weirdly organic or just blatant magic. When someone calls on you, they stroke the membrane and it produces a sort of burbling sound to get your attention. As it is doing incessantly now. You hurry over and peer at your visitor through the portholes around the archway.

_...oh..._

Not who you were hoping for, but you already knew that. You would've felt his excitement before he even arrived if he were coming to see you. You press your hand against the crystal panel beside the door to peel back the membrane, revealing a wall of seawater. A lithe figure slithers through it, the black scales of her tail whispering across the stone floor as she moves her serpentine body into the room.

Where mermaids are half-human and half-fish, this dark creature is half-human and half-snake—a _naga._ Other than Kylo, she's the only living being who visits you here.

Her face is fierce, angular with sharp cheeks jutting from her olive skin. You're not sure if the shiny, skintight cowl covering her head and shoulders is a natural part of her or if it's fashion. There's no mistaking the rest of her though, naked save for the ropes of obsidian pearls draping from her neck down the slight swell of her chest. It's still a little distracting to see so much nudity in this culture. You think she’s observant enough to sense this and adjusts how she sits on her tail so that you're not eye-level with her nipples.

The graceful Bazine Netal bows low and her black lips curl into a smile.  _“Ner kandosii'la,_ I've brought your supper.”

You've watched her do this dozens of times already, but the reverence she shows you still makes you uncomfortable. A _perk_ of being the emperor's, uh...girlfriend(?), you guess. Rubbing your neck, you bashfully look away from your visitor.

“Thank you, Bazine...”

She sets a flat stone covered in small piles of foodstuffs on the table. You poke a finger out to destroy the protective bubble of air that surrounds it. You’ll have to use your fingers to eat (since mermaids really do comb their hair with forks) and Bazine watches you expectantly. You're not sure why until you notice that one of the piles is slightly steaming. It kind of looks like collard greens.

“...This one is warm,” you say in surprise.

“The emperor thought you might like that,” Bazine purrs.

You smile softly and scoop some of the stringy stuff into your mouth. It's good! As is everything else you've eaten while you've been here, if you can ignore some of the strange textures and presentations.

Once you've finished eating, your visitor coils herself around a chair and grins mischievously at you, fangs glinting in the crystal light. You don't like that look _at all._ You're not even sure you like Bazine, really. She happily carries out your every whim and has only ever been kind to you, but her smile still seems more ominous than friendly. However, Kylo insisted that he saw her heart and it is loyal.

“I've brought you something else, _kandosii'la,”_ she says and dips a clawed hand into the eel-skin pouch lashed to her waist.

Mirrors. She spreads half a dozen small mirrors out on the table in front of you, some with ornate metallic frames and others have only rough-hewn edges. They're probably scrying mirrors like the ones you sometimes use to talk to Kylo. But why has she given you so many? The bemused smile you offer makes her snicker.

“The emperor mentioned that you were lacking in entertainment,” she says as if sharing a secret, leaning in close enough that you can see her slitted pupils. “Sssso I've brought you some...contraband. Plays, mummers’ skits, operassss…”

Bazine strokes a talon along one mirror and it projects a tiny merfolk couple arguing dramatically. Your expression brightens up with a hopeful grin until you realize that they're speaking Mando’a. You’re not even close to understanding the language yet.

“Damn!” you frown. “Are any of these in English?”

Bazine’s face falls slightly at your disappointment. “Hmm…perhapsss not. But mummers don't rely on language to entertain.”

She spends a couple of hours with you to watch the recordings she _(apparently illegally)_ procured and gleefully explains the most popular meri dramas. The entertainment here doesn't seem to differ too drastically from the surface. There’s the low-brow, reality show-type stuff, but they also have Shakespearean-like classics, too. Bazine suggests that you can use these mirrors to help with your Mando’a and even offers to teach you herself.

You give her a strained smile and tell her you'll think about it.

It's early in the night cycle when she leaves, but you decide to retire anyway. There's a sandy area separated from the rest of the room by hanging kelp that parts like curtains when you move through it. The soles of your feet are warmed by the soft, white sand as you walk to your “bed”, but the grains don't stick to your skin. Amidst the tall, bright grass and oversized coral rests an ivory sea anemone with tentacles swaying gently on a nonexistent current.

Shedding the silky, translucent material of your gown, you drop into the soft tentacles with a pleased moan. It took some convincing to get you to sleep in this thing at first. You were creeped out by the swaying papillae and the knowledge that lying on an anemone was the best way to be _eaten_ by an anemone, but Kylo assured you that this thing wasn't actually alive.

So you gave it a try and now bedtime is your favorite time of day. The papillae are warm and smell like rain, hugging and supporting your body so perfectly that you don't even miss blankets or pillows. It's such a great bed that you usually fall asleep right away.

Tonight though, you stay awake long enough to send pleasant thoughts to Kylo as you caress the gift that's still braided in your hair. The bond you share immediately thrums with warm gratitude and you almost feel the ghost of a kiss against your temple.

You drift off to sleep smiling.

-*-

A droid interrupts your sleep with breakfast at the start of the next day cycle, so you dress and eat before settling back into your nest to watch more of the mirrors. You're especially intrigued by the mummers, the pantomimes. The way they perform slapstick comedy while underwater is so fascinating that you find yourself analyzing their antics rather than—

Suddenly, your breath catches in your throat and your heart floods with joy. Rushing off the anemone, you drop the mirror amongst the tentacles in your haste to get to the archway. The membrane opens at your command and Kylo almost seems shocked that you beat him to it. He's still in his mero form, so only his torso can breach past the seawater barrier, but you throw your arms around his wet body regardless. He reciprocates your gesture with an amused chuckle and ducks his head to breathe in the familiar scent of your hair.

“Four days, nineteen hours, and forty-one minutes,” you gripe into his chest. You can feel him hum sadly, feel his remorse.

He pulls your face up to inspect it—the fullness of your cheeks, your clear eyes and soft hair. You understand that he wants to make sure you're healthy, but you frown at his hypocrisy as your eyes roam over his sunken cheeks and bruised undereye bags.

“Kylo,” you sigh impatiently.

He strokes his scaly knuckles down your face and bites his lip, looking at you apologetically with those soulful brown eyes. 

Damn it! The scolding you were about to give him ends up being obliterated by the strength of That Look. You scowl at the triumphant smirk that spreads across his face.

Closing the distance between your mouths, he delicately cradles your face and kisses you slowly, sweetly. You accept his kiss with great enthusiasm, relishing in his taste and unique smell, the iron muscles under your palms, the soft sounds he makes when you massage his tongue with yours. It's been too long since you've had this and you grow greedier by the second, needing _more._ Kylo groans and nips you sharply in warning. Not now.

He kisses you again, sending the familiar effervescence of magic blooming across your face and neck. The implication nearly makes your heart burst: he's going to take you with him!

Now you're both smiling into the kiss and you can feel his elation grow alongside yours. He swims backward, tugging you through the wall of water by your arms. The sea envelopes you as you enter the sunken palace hall and your newly formed gills flutter as they work.

“I've found it, little starfish,” he says with a grin. “I've found out how to make you a _meri.”_

Linking his arm with yours, Kylo pulls you through the nearly empty halls, past the few Stormtrooper guards and scurrying droids. They become even more sparse as you move toward a different wing of the palace. It's darker here with less crystal lights and you notice more disrepair in the walls. Jagged scars in the stone. Scorch marks. You look to Kylo questioningly but he says nothing.

Eventually, you reach a huge archway and Kylo opens the door to reveal an equally huge room. There are no seaglass windows here, instead the walls are covered with bubbles. You leave your paramour’s side get a closer look and are surprised when you recognize the items hovering within. They're human artifacts. A compass, a lock box, a map, jewelry, various small electronics, silverware, clothing. There's even a calligraphy set, aged and crusted with sea salt.

 _A scholar and a gentleman,_ you think with amusement.

Kylo's deep chuckle at your back startles you. You didn't realize he was following so closely.

“Humans...have always been fascinating to me. I can't help but collect the strange things they leave in the ocean,” he says. “But we can talk about that some other time. Come.”

He leads you by the hand to another archway at the back of the room, this one hidden away by great stalks of seaweed. It's his nest. It looks similar to yours except with less decorative coral and a bigger, darker anemone. For some reason, you feel incredibly nervous now and you see the same nervousness reflected in Kylo's eyes, too.

“So...you have to eat—”

Your face immediately crumples into a grimace. Not again! You really don't want to eat or drink any more bits of Kylo. That sentence is awkward enough to act out without swallowing a mouthful of salt water on top of it. He looks as uncomfortable as you feel and anxiously runs a hand through his long hair.

“I know, I'm sorry...but afterward—maybe this will make it worth it—afterward we, uh...have to consummate the spell.”

Your eyebrows raise in intrigue at both Kylo's sudden bashfulness and the idea of “consummation”. You're not sure how it's possible for a mermaid to shuffle, but Kylo seems to be doing just that. He's waiting for your answer. Does he really think you would say anything other than “yes” at this point? Taking his large, clawed hands in yours, you give him a squeeze and a reassuring smile. This ritual already sounds like it'll be _much_ more enjoyable than the last. Kylo exhales a watery breath in relief and gives you a quick kiss.

“It has to be seven fresh scales, swallowed whole. I'll try to pick the smallest ones.”

You grimace again for another reason. Won't that be painful?

His honeyed eyes are smiling when he says, “It will be worth it.”

Seven times Kylo pulls a scale from either his arms or the end of his tail (the least sensitive areas) and seven times you open your mouth so that he can place it on your tongue. It tingles and oddly dissolves as you swallow it down with the sea water. After the fifth scale, you begin feeling strange and by the seventh scale you feel _high._ Colors are too vibrant and you feel as though you are of two minds—one inside your body and another outside, looking in.

Kylo is breathless when he asks how you feel and you sluggishly mime that your mind is blown, which only alarms him. Oh, right. You're the only one here who understands human colloquialisms. A veritable fish out of water. You giggle at the irony and it quickly turns into laughter bordering on hysterical. Your amusement soon sweeps through the bond and carries Kylo away as well, until you're both cackling and clutching at each other.

It's not until your stomach starts hurting that the laughter fades into giggles and you move in close enough to rub your nose to his. He sighs as his eyes drift shut. There are diamonds caught in his eyelashes.

“Do you feel that?” he asks in a rumbling voice.

You do feel it, how your skin _ripples with light_ whenever it connects to his, and you dance your fingers down his jaw to watch the luminous concentric circles burst across his skin and then fade. He moans softly and tilts his head at the wondrous feeling of warmth that the ripples leave behind. You watch as his plush lips part and his eyelids flutter, his raven hair billowing about in the water. There's a seashell amongst the strands, calling to you, _singing._ Kylo interrupts your hand’s journey to capture it, bringing your wrist to his mouth for a kiss. He gazes at you as he does so and you gaze back at him. You feel yourself falling into the beautiful abyss of his eyes and he catches you with his mouth. The kiss is first soft and then hard and then sharp. He bites you but then soothes you with his lips, teasing down your body and tearing your gown away, unwrapping you like a gift.

Purring once he finds your plush folds, he sinks his tongue between them and flicks it across the swollen pearl hidden there until your arousal coats his chin and your toes curl. Over and over and over, his tongue laves across your intimacy. He drapes your legs over his shoulders and clutches your thighs to keep you from wriggling off when the mounting pleasure gets overwhelming, and your fingers weave through his hair. But he can't have you come like this, so the bastard drops you right at the edge.

Kylo spreads your legs around his muscled tail as his cock emerges from it, brushing against your lips and sending tremors through both of your bodies. Everything feels so _heightened,_ like all your senses have been cranked to superhuman. You can feel every imperfection in his scales, smell his arousal, see the exact shape of every freckle and mole across his face.

Pleased, keening cries try to escape your mouth but Kylo swallows them all. He swallows your cries as your body swallows down his oil-slick shaft. Thick, so thick and so hot as you take him inch by delicious inch. You can almost _feel him_ feeling _you,_ tight and wet, _choking him_ in the most exquisite way.

“More, _cyar’ika,”_ the emperor begs of you. “Please...take all of me. I know you can…”

He bends your legs over his forearms so he can spread you wider for him, working his body in and out of yours until you can take him nearly to the hilt. It's been too long since you've done this, since you've felt him caressing the innermost parts of you, that you want to cry at how _right_ it feels. Kylo groans his agreement in your ear and then the tears fall free.

Once your fluttering walls adjust to him, he rocks his hips into you at an almost impatient pace—quick, hard. All you can do is wrap your arms around his neck, holding him tightly as he pounds delighted mewls out of you. His thrusts are disturbing the waters, creating waves that make the foliage sway, and you swear that you can hear the wet, slick sound of him fucking into you.

It's all so much, too much—this bond, this magic—that he can only stroke inside you a short while longer before you're both screaming through electric climaxes.

Kylo stretches you around his knot as his warm seed pumps into you and when his fangs catch your neck, you come again with a violent shudder. He languidly licks at the new bite, encouraging it to heal. You're drained, arms lazily draped across Kylo's shoulders as you drop your face into the crook of his neck, breast heaving as you pant chest to chest with him. He soothingly strokes the backs of your thighs and holds you flush against him while you're tied together, murmuring in your ear about how well you did, how good you were for him, as your consciousness fades.

Sometime later, you reawaken on top of the anemone and arch your back into a full-body stretch. You feel great, sated...but something seems off.

_The spell!_

Enthusiastically looking down at your lower half, you're met with the sight of completely unremarkable legs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i feel like i'm really full of shit with this chapter but i hope you like it anyway lol (*^o^*)


	3. Love(sic) Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Kylo (don’t) deal with the implications of the failed Operation: Become a Mermaid.

There's a certain weight to disappointment. A black mass that oozes from the heart and clings to everything it touches like tar, bones and memories and flesh made heavy with its toxic influence. It settles in the spirit and hardens it. Weighs down the body. Makes the countenance sag.

Despite all you've seen of Kylo's mystical world, a _very_ slight part of you was skeptical of his promise to make you one of him. Mermaids—and happily-ever-afters—only existed in fairy tales in your world, yet you were hopeful. You trusted him. When the first attempt failed, you couldn't dwell on the disappointment because the emperor's storm of frustration was howling across your mental landscape…but _now?_ Oh, now there's no ignoring this absolutely crushing and _suffocating_ dismay.

With much effort, you turn over on the anemone to rouse Kylo only to find that he's already awake. He's laying on his back amongst the papillae and looking at the ceiling, eyes unfocused as he stares beyond the here-and-now. In the gentle turquoise lambency, his beautiful face seems calm, but his clenched fist and shallow breaths belie how tense he really is. The water ripples when you move closer to gently stroke the scales of his arm and catch his attention, but he remains lost in his thoughts.

You reach across the bond instead, gasping sharply when you make the second disturbing discovery in so many minutes. Instead of Kylo's usually warm and stalwart mental presence, you find a cold _ghost_ in his place. Even that is quickly fading into something inchoate. His consciousness is becoming muted, like someone turning down the volume of a distant radio station. You can barely catch feelings of regret and guilt before the signal breaks up into indistinct static.

Confusion and fear suddenly dig into your heart with icy claws. What is _happening?_ Is he pulling away on purpose or did the botched spell break something between you? The idea of losing him—of truly being alone in the dark deep—is something that you _cannot_ stomach. You fail to swallow down the acrid panic rising in your throat and shake Kylo's arm, his name dropping from your mouth in a bloated and misshapen bubble. Finally, his amber eyes meet your frightened ones and he frowns when you silently implore him.

_What is going on?_

Kylo huffs a watery breath and brings his forehead to rest against yours, gently taking your face in his claws. Your gaze darts over his proximity-blurred features through his dark cloud of hair as his eyes fall closed. He says nothing, just continues to breathe deeply and purposefully. You watch as his pursed lips slacken and the jumping, ticking vein in his jaw relaxes. Without realizing it, your breathing begins to match his and the anxiety creeping around your head slowly dissipates.

When Kylo next opens his eyes, your mind is quiet...save for one thing.

_What is going on?_

Resounding silence rises to meet your question. The pursed lips return.

Kylo looks away as he hesitantly answers, “I-I don't know…”

Your mind is blown blank from shock, wet eyes blinking rapidly as you try to process his words. Seeing the broken look on your face, he hugs you tight to him and gently rakes his claws down your back. Your head bobs with his chest as he takes a breath before speaking again.

“Let's get you to nest, _cyar'ika._ We can talk about this after you've gotten some sleep.”

At first, you're calm as he guides you through the watery palace. You try to focus on the scenery that you rarely get to see, but the closer you get to your room—

_(cage)_

_—_ the closer the panic comes to clawing its way back into the forefront of your mind. Plan B had failed and Kylo just admitted that there was _no Plan C,_ meaning confinement in that beautiful bubble would be your life for the foreseeable future. You would continue to sleep alone, take your meals alone, mark time and pace and worry and wait alone _alone_ _ALONE—_

The sound of your name in Kylo's strong voice cuts across your thoughts and he stops swimming to pull you into his arms. You wrap your own arms around him and squeeze tightly, fingers digging into the muscles at his back.

“You're _not_ alone,” he murmurs into your hair as he strokes it. “I'm here.”

You sigh and attempt to brush your consciousness against his again, but he's _still a ghost_ and the bond is _still static_ , making his declaration ring horribly false. Irritation suddenly bites at you. Your head snaps up as you suck your teeth and glare at him. He never did explain that bit of weirdness from earlier and you get the sense that it's because _he's doing it on purpose._ Your angry fingers flex against him, nails threatening to break into his pale skin in a silent demand for answers.

Kylo hisses, moreso in annoyance at your lashing out than at the pain. His own irritation flares up and burns away the static and the ghosts with a white flame. You can feel all of him again, especially how his frustration and loneliness mirrors your own. The hand in your hair turns dangerous as he uses a fistful to snatch your head back, forcing a gasp from your throat.

“You think you're the only one worrying and waiting, sweetheart? The only one sleeping alone?” he asks in a low growl, honeyed eyes licking over the planes of your face and exposed neck.

You can only challenge him with a glare over your nose. That's exactly your _point._ You're _supposed_ to be in this _together._ If he's going to shut you out, then what's the _point_ of you even being he—

 _“Don't.”_ Kylo warns, tightening his grip on your hair. 

The tiny jolt of pain from your scalp arcs down your spine and lower still, sparking into excitement between your legs. You huff in annoyance at your body's absurd reaction. Not now, damn it! We're mad right now!

The emperor is observant. Something changes in his eyes as he runs his tongue over his lips, but he continues his previous thought. “Don't even think—not even for _one_ _second—_ that I...”

His soft eyes grow intense as he reverently murmurs your name, “Of course I want you—”

_(need you)_

“—here.”

He loosens his grip on your hair and you can't help but shiver when he runs his fingers over your scalp in apology. Wrapping his free arm around your ribs to bring you even closer, he bites his lip and looks back into your face. The worry lines reappear between his brows.

“Being in the mind of someone else...that's something I've had my whole life to master,” he explains.

Your expression must reflect your confusion because his soft gaze becomes gentler still. Dipping his head down to the long column of your throat, his lips skate across your skin in a whisper-soft kiss. He pushes his understanding of _the Tide_ through your bond, a veritable flipbook of images and feelings that gives you a crash course on the incredible telepathic connection that he has with the sea and everything in it.

“I'm sorry. I don't mean to pull away from you, little starfish _,_ but I know that I can be—my _temper_ can be...a lot. I don't want to overwhelm you.”

Your thoughts wander back to that night he destroyed the ritualistic altar in blind fury. Yes, it had been terrifying and all-consuming, but you would admittedly take _that_ over empty loneliness any day. You agreed to be here _with him_ and that meant accepting the good with the bad, the temper with the tenderness. Your eyes are shining with emotion when they meet his and you shift in his arms to press a firm, reassuring kiss on his frowning mouth. He hums against you and returns the kiss eagerly, holding the back of your neck to keep you close when you try to break away too early, parting your lips with his tongue so he can lick inside your mouth.

The ferocity in his kiss catches you off guard, but you quickly match his energy with your own tongue and lips and attach yourself to him like an octopus to a meal. You pull away after a few heated moments because you'd rather escalate this in privacy, even though the palace halls are nearly deserted at this hour. You attempt to tug Kylo back to his quarters, but he seems reluctant.

“No, you should rest,” he sighs.

You open your mouth to protest, but the words don't follow. He's right. You're breathless and it's not just from the passionate kissing. It's getting more and more difficult to pull in oxygen from the water, a sure sign that your magical gills have reached their limit. You nod and Kylo's scaled hand gives yours a small squeeze. Once at the archway to your room, his parting kiss is slow and sweet.

“I'll call on you tomorrow,” he says as he gently coaxes you over the threshold.

The moisture is wicked away from your body and gown, leaving you inexplicably dry as you stand in the quiet, trying to discern whether or not you're going to be sick. You realize with great trepidation that you are indeed about to be sick. Rushing over to the huge marble basin that you use for washing up, you gather your hair away from your face and lean over it just as your stomach clenches painfully. Your last four meals and approximately twelve gallons of seawater are heaved into the basin. You tremble for several long minutes over the basin, groaning with tears catching in your eyelashes, as the nausea runs its course. When you feel comfortable enough to leave it, you pour yourself a glass of fresh water from the pitcher on the table. Rinse. Spit. Drink. Then you weakly fall into your nest and moan.

Well, that was entirely unwelcome. You hadn't felt that sick since your first night with Kylo. Maybe it was the aftermath of that spell? Instead of examining what the hell _that_ could possibly mean, you decide to get comfortable and chase away your worries with sleep. It comes to you quickly, but is fickle, leaving you tossing and turning as you just barely skim along the surface of restfulness. You eventually give up on the idea altogether and instead settle down to watch the little mermaids in the mirrors.

Your favorites so far are definitely the mummers. One troupe in particular caught your eye with a crass style of slapstick that's reminiscent of _The Three Stooges._ The recording seems older with its fuzzy imagery and the audio of the sound effects seems distorted, but that doesn't stop you from enjoying it. You watch your favorite mummer attempt to prank his buddy, grinning when his plans backfire and he makes his signature “nope, nothing to see here” face. He's a young merman with a very magnetic aura about him. The way he moves and laughs seems familiar, which puts you at ease in this unfamiliar place. If only you could see his face more clearly…

You don't realize that you've drifted off to sleep until you awaken to singing.

Shifting upright, you rub your eyes as an ethereal melody hangs in the air. Cobwebs sprawl across the corners of your brain and you knock them away with a yawn.

“...Kylo?” you call out in a sleep-slow voice. He answers with a rumbling hum.

You stumble off the anemone and sluggishly move to the open door where you see Kylo's torso poking over the threshold. Blinking at him in surprise, both your brows and lips tilt upward. He's never visited you this early or _unexpectedly_ in the day before. You stand before him and he regards you in much the same way as yesterday, examining your face with his eyes and fingers. There must be no trace of last night's sickness because he seems satisfied at what he finds.

He quickly leans forward, seals your mouth with another magical kiss, and pulls you back into the watery hall with him. You regard his sea-soft features with curiosity.

“I want to show you something,” is all he says and motions for you to climb onto his back.

Once your hands are settled on his shoulders and his waist is between your knees, Kylo makes his way through the water. His leisurely pace gives you the chance to marvel at the oceanic craftsmanship and how the lack of concern for gravity has allowed for some very interesting architectural design. The deeper you travel into the palace, the more you see wild, jagged rock cutting through the smoothly chiseled masonry. It seems like you're going into the cliffs behind the palace. Darkness expands around you as you move through the tunnels, but the smattering of glowing flora and fauna along the rocky walls illuminate a path clear enough for the merman beneath you to navigate. Kylo hasn't spoken for a long while, so you tentatively reach out to him with mental fingers and are relieved to find that he's actually there, warm and hefty as ever. His mind seems _peaceful._ There's a thrumming undercurrent of excitement about your destination, but that's it.

No trace of concern about the events of last night or anxiety about the future…and you're honestly just fine with curbing those thoughts for another time, too.

You squeeze him a bit tighter in the physical realm and bright bubble pops in the bond, there and then gone like a shooting star, but the light it leaves behind is lingering. It brings a smile to your face.

_He's happy._

When you leave the dark tunnels, the ink-black waters begin to brighten into serene hues of blue. Midnight to navy to sapphire to cerulean to azure and then—finally— _sky._ A perfectly cloudless sky, giving the sun's rays freedom enough to kiss your wet skin. You've surfaced near a tiny islet and Kylo swims you to the shallows, but you don't even need his gentle nudging to scramble up the sandy beach yourself. The sand is warm under your bare feet and a salty breeze raises goosebumps along your arms. Dry and warm and _bright._ So bright that you have to squint while your eyes adjust to all of the light. It's painful and yet you welcome it. You've missed the sun, missed the _surface._

A sudden pang of guilt grips your heart and you look to the shallows where Kylo's long, muscular form is lazily drifting on his back as he watches you. He effortlessly bats away your guilt with a small smile and mental reassurances. He brought you here because he knew that seeing the sun would bring a smile to your face, so you shouldn't feel guilty about being happy.

 _He_ doesn't feel guilty about being happy.

As you look out at him, you see yourself as he sees you: radiant and golden as you smile in the sun. Your light chases away the darkest parts of him, so long as his eyes are on you or his mind is with you. To have you smile _because of him_ makes his struggles seem worthwhile.

“Kylo,” you breathe, rendered speechless at the sentiment.

How was he able to say so much without saying anything at all?

You start walking back to him, but he implores you to stay on the beach and enjoy it for a while longer. He insists there's no rush to return to the sea. You bite your lip, still unsure.

“Won't the merfolk miss their emperor?”

You can hear his growling scoff from the beach, but he offers no other response. Well, if that's the case, you're going follow his suggestion and enjoy this as much as time will allow.

Lowering yourself into the sun-warm sand, you lay back and close your eyes. When the world gets quiet like this, the troublesome thoughts threaten to shatter your peace of mind, so you make a great effort to clear it, make it as blank and blue as the azure canopy above. With your mind empty, you can fill your senses.

The breezy shimmersilk gown, so sweet against your skin, is nearly dry already and your fingers skim over the lush texture. It's a smooth contrast to the rough grains of sand at your back. Gulls caw and coo as they sail through the air overhead. The cool sea breeze offers a reprieve from the rising temperature, making the trees and tide whisper. An enchanting voice follows after that same breeze to caress your ears and further calm your mind.

The emperor is singing again, a slow and preternatural melody that eventually drowns out everything else. You sit up to watch as he languidly paces in the shallows. His song is slightly melancholy like the first time he wordlessly sang a to you. After a few verses, he falls into a wordless chorus and the rich bass notes compel you to get to your feet and sway. There's only a slight pause in singing when Kylo sees what you're doing and when he resumes, you can _feel_ his smile.

Your dancing becomes more animated as his song continues, with you kicking up your legs to toss your skirts around, your arms waving about gracefully. You twirl and sashay like a confident ballerina, completely at ease even though you have an audience. Sweat starts beading across your skin and you realize your dancing has matched the increasing tempo of Kylo's song. Whatever theme it held before has been abandoned in favor of challenging you to dance faster and faster and he's stopped his own pacing to watch. You jump and kick and spin as Kylo's tempo moves faster and his pitch climbs higher until the seemingly impossible happens—his voice _cracks like a teenager's._ A shout of laughter erupts from your chest and lose your footing in the sand.

Falling to your knees, you struggle between breathing and laughing. Kylo's warm chuckles join yours, getting louder as he moves closer to you. You suck in air and your lungs catch on something that sends you into a rough coughing fit. Suddenly worried, Kylo beaches himself beside you and rubs your back as you recover.

“I'm okay,” you gasp and cough a final few times. “Whew! I haven't laughed that hard in a minute!”

Kylo is still frowning as he searches your face so you lean forward and kiss away the wrinkles between his brows.

“Stop worrying! Come here.”

You lay back in the sand and gesture toward your chest. Kylo's expression finally brightens and he raises an eyebrow before attacking your cleavage with his face and fingers, sending you into another laughing-coughing fit.

“No! _No, knock it off!”_ you squeal and swat at him.

He quickly takes mercy on you and settles his damp head on your chest, as per your original invitation. One clawed hand encloses yours and he drapes his thick arm over your belly, reaching over to stroke down your side. You can feel his slight anxiety over the sudden wheezing accompanying your breath as it evens out.

You stroke your fingers through his damp hair in reassurance. “It's fine. I just haven't been active in a while. It's kind of hard to go for a jog underwater, y'know?”

He just sighs and squeezes you.

It's quiet for a while as you lay together, surrounded by the placid susurrus of the beach.

“Thanks...for bringing me up here,” you eventually murmur. “It means a lot. We haven't seen each other a lot and I understand why, but I still…”

You pause, suddenly feeling bashful and a little dumb because he's a powerful sea witch trying to _rule an_ _empire_ and you're whining about how _he doesn't spend enough time with you,_ some random… _landlubber._ You groan and throw your free arm over your face. When put like that, you can't even finish the thought out loud. The snarky voice in the depths of your mind reminds you that this sea witch _grew legs_ to go searching for you, created a home in his _underwater palace_ for you, and continues to do everything in his power to _cater to you._ Your loud self-doubt almost drowns the voice, but then said sea witch himself growls and bites you right on the tit, making you bark like a frightened seal.

Listening in on your, frankly, _ridiculous_ argument with yourself is frustrating. He doesn't understand how you could possibly doubt his feelings for you after all he's done.

“Probably because you do shit like that!” you yelp.

You gently rub your now tender tiddy. He didn't break the skin, but the sudden pain still made you angry. Like stubbing your toe on a coffee table. Kylo reaches over to soothe you—he'd only meant to be playful—but you jump out of his arms and move away several paces.

“You ignore me and pull my hair and bite me—”

_(mark me possess me dominate me)_

You gulp and pretend the shiver coursing up your spine is from a chill.

Kylo is apologetic, biting his lip and giving you his best “kicked puppy” look through his lashes. You're not angry anymore, but you scoff and stick your tongue out at him anyway. His eyes narrow at the gesture.

“You're being mean, so I think I'll stay over here,” you pout, not even remotely serious.

Kylo remains prone in the sand, torso lifted over his folded muscular arms as he frowns at you. The end of his tail is twitching and flicking about in irritation, reminding you of a cat, and for some reason the sight inspires wickedness in you. You casually walk near to him and when he reaches for your ankle, you jump out of the way. The growing irritation that sparks through the bond makes you snicker. You attempt to tease him a few more times, but he doesn't play along after the second time he reaches for you and catches air.

You know he won't deign to drag himself across the sand toward you, so you take full advantage of his limited range of motion and dance around him until you're breathless with barely restrained laughter. He's growling low in his throat, face pink with a frustrated blush, and for a second you fear that his tail will somehow split in two and he’ll finally be able to chase you down the beach.

What happens instead is... much more ~~fascinating~~ _frightening._

Eyes boring into yours, Kylo throws out an arm and holds it parallel to the ground for a moment before sweeping it toward you and tightening his clawed hand into a fist. You don't see it until it's too late, how the tide has pulled out to form a huge wave. You gasp in surprise before it crashes over you, riptide snatching your legs out from under you and pulling you back down the shore, directly underneath a certain _very_ _annoyed_ mermaid. With the beach now underwater, you can't breathe as you cautiously open your eyes to blink up at him. You lay trapped under his hulking form and his piercing stare. His smug satisfaction hums through the bond.

“There are consequences for teasing me, little starfish,” he warns.

The ocean finally retreats, just in time for you to draw in a much needed breath. A breath that tastes and smells like him.

His hulking body gently settles beside yours as the water pulls back and gravity takes over. Kylo lowers his mouth to your throat to suckle and bite and mark up your flesh with his retribution. He takes hold of your breast—the one he abused with his teeth—and sends it sweet apologies with his fingers. You arch into the touch that burns through your gown and clutch at his shoulders as your legs part for him, spreading yourself open so he can climb between them and match his skin to your skin—hip to hip, belly to belly.

He reaches your mating bite and sets your nerves alight when he traces it with his tongue, pleasure cracking and splintering like lightning down your muscles and into your cunt. You turn toward his face and gasp his name, calling him home to your lips and he comes running. He's so soft yet hard—full, pillowy lips over iron teeth and silk skin over steel muscles. You revel in his contradictions. You run your tongue over his fangs, bite his lips, curl your tongue around his and try to consume him, to take his power for your own.

The emperor won't allow it. You teased him, challenged him, and now he needs you to acknowledge his strength—not to break you, but to prove to you that he's a strong and worthy mate. That you can rely on him to give you whatever you need.

He's reminded of your first morning together on a beach not dissimilar to this one, how the strange weight of gravity pressed him down into you. You were trapped and at his mercy between him and the sand, but he was also at your mercy when your cunt was _strangling_ him like that, at that angle. It was nothing like he'd ever felt before and he wants to feel that again—no, he _needs_ to feel it. His genitus scales twitch and part at the thought, unable to restrain his aching cock any longer. You gasp into his mouth when it flops wetly against your belly.

It's so hot and hard when you take it in hand, slick with his natural arousal already. You slowly pump his length and drink his moans from the lips you have between your teeth. Memories of your first time together play in front of your mind's eye—your blood filling his mouth, his come filling your womb. How every bump and ridge and curve of your insides caressed him as he mounted and fucked you.

“Yes, baby yes.” Your whispered consent is barely spoken before he's flipping you onto your belly.

He quickly peels the wet gown away from your skin. He needs to feel all of you—breasts in hand, naked spine against his chest. He smooths his hand down your body to caress one fleshy ass cheek and then the other. A tiny beauty mark under your shoulder blade catches his eye and his kiss as his warm hand slides between your legs to stroke your velveteen folds. Exploiting his power, he reads the thoughts and desires flitting across your mind to write them into reality across your skin with his fingers, and before long you're dripping a delicious, tangy nectar that's too enticing for him not to taste.

You whimper when his tongue hits you, so soft and hot as he flicks it across your clit. He takes you high and then drops you, pulling back to strum you with his fingers for a time before his tongue returns. He plays you until your nerves are frayed, heart tripping up a double-time tempo in your ribs. He ignores your pleas for release until you learn your lesson—that _you're his,_ this _orgasm_ is his and he's gifting it to you because _he wants to._ You explode in his mouth with a scream, eyes pinched shut and legs trembling violently as the pleasure ignites your pussy and engulfs your whole being in ecstasy, stars dying and birthing supernovas behind your eyes. You don't even register how the tiny grains of sand bite into your skin where your forehead and knees are digging into the beach.

Kylo caresses your thighs and bottom as he moves over you and takes a cheek in each hand to spread you for him. You're not even close to recovering before his monstrous, oily cock is splitting your pink flesh wide open. You gasp and he groans as he forces his way in deep, deeper. The angle is just as blissful as he remembers—as is the sight of you face down and ass up, his black claws contrasting against your soft skin, your lips spreading your arousal along his glistening cock. _Fuck—_ he loves that sight, loves watching your body swallow him up. He rocks back on his tail to pull out a bit and then pushes back in just as slowly— in...out...in...out...in... You cry for him to stop teasing you, but he doesn't want to do that at all when you look and feel and sound _so. Fucking. Good._ Your keening moans and breathy cries make him throb with a need for more.

He drapes himself over your back, wrapping an arm around your collarbone to hold you against him as he leans most of his weight on the other. You dig your fingers into the sand when he pulls his hips back again, dragging his heavy meat out with a sweet friction that makes your eyes roll back.

His pace is so strong and so, so deep that he hits your spot _hard_ each time he strokes in. His growling moans are punctuated by kisses and nibbles to your neck and ear as he fucks you and makes love to you in intervals. Strong and slow, then hard and rough and back again. He shifts his position to loop his arms under your hips and get better leverage to pick up the pace, rushing you both to that coveted pinnacle.

Images of being bitten and fucked and filled and knotted assault your mind and it sends you over the edge again. You sob and pulse around him and bring him over soon after. Kylo's roar is muffled by your shoulder between his jaws as he bites you in the same spot he always does, and when you're lucid you'll wonder why it always unravels you. He thrusts into you only twice more before his cock swells and pumps you full, making you shiver at the sensation of his hot seed coating your insides. He groans and you moan as his knot swells and ties you to him, a beautiful stretch that makes your pussy throb in delight.

Kylo spoons you afterward, curling his muscular tail behind your legs as he envelopes you in his arms, and you fall asleep quickly in the sunlight.

Sometime later, he wakes you with tender kisses to your jaw and cheeks. You stretch out sore muscles and rise to sit next to him, feeling utterly… _utterly._ The adjective has slipped your mind. In fact, it seems that all things have. Kylo brings you a delicious crab for lunch and ends up having to feed it to you after seeing how you seem too distracted to do it yourself. He looks at you curiously and delves into your mind, finding nothing but fluffy clouds in a pastel sky. It's like every worry—indeed, your very _brain—_ was fucked right out of your head.

He is torn between feeling proud and concerned.

All you can offer him is a dazed smile and a kiss to his freckled shoulder. Your attention drifts downward where you're absently caressing the onyx scales at his hip. The myriad colors underneath the black shift and flush a lovely shade of crimson toward the middle of his tail. With his plush lips against yours, he asks that _you take him_ this time—take the reigns and climb him and ride him and use his powerful tail for your own pleasure. You suck his sharp fingers into your mouth as you oblige him, watching him unravel from above with your lust-blown, half-lidded eyes. He blushes so prettily when he comes.

Your mind is still blank when you go back to Coruscant late in the afternoon and Kylo is thankful that your tranquility has started to affect his mood as well. He's going to need it to handle his angry advisors later.

Stroking your hair away from your face, his amber eyes catch yours in an intense stare. “Are you alright?”

You nod and grin and kiss the inside of his wrist.

“Did I fuck your brains out again?” he smirks, referring to the last time you two were on a beach together.

Your kiss turns into a bite and he chuckles.

Your long night's rest is filled with sweetness—warm bodies and soft touches in sunlight—and you feel refreshed when you climb out of your nest late in the morning. Even breakfast tastes better than usual...until it comes back up not ten minutes after you've finished it. You skip lunch and when Bazine comes by with your dinner, you can only pick at it noncommittally. You're a bit peckish, but still not confident that you can keep anything down.

 _“Ner kandosii'la,_ you don't seem well,” Bazine comments with a frown, her discerning eyes bouncing over your sallow face.

Taciturn, you brush her off. Vomiting twice over the period of a day was hardly something to draw attention to and you feel fine besides. It's not until the fourth day of tossing up your breakfast (and sometimes lunch) that you ask Bazine for some kind of anti-nausea remedy, demanding that she leave this tidbit out of her reports to the emperor. She's obviously uncomfortable with _that_ part of your request, but promises to be withholding anyway.

The weird potion she returns with is actually really helpful. You still sometimes suffer from rolling nausea, but it's not as severe as it once was and you get to keep _most_ of your meals in your belly. In the days following, you sleep in later and later, finding it easier to just skip breakfast altogether since the nausea seems to dissipate by the afternoon. A week slips by in this manner: go to bed early, sleep in late, sometimes get sick in the basin, sometimes not. There’s a locked box in the corner of your mind that’s buried under flimsy justifications and excuses, and the thing inside grows harder to ignore with each day that passes where your health does not improve.

You play dumb until Bazine ruins everything. After helping you record a ~~deceitful~~ response to Kylo's mirror message, your serpentine not-quite-servant curls herself into a chair. You know she wants to talk, but you ignore her and pretend to be distracted by the view outside. She clicks her talons against the bone tabletop as she gathers her thoughts. You watch her reflection's painted black lips part and your heart suddenly develops arrhythmia.

_(shut up shut up shut up)_

You wish silently that she was as psychic as Kylo.

_“Kandosii'la?”_

You pretend you haven't heard her.

“...do...human females have moon cycles?”

Your fake mental lockbox shatters like a glass vase at the simple question and you're forced to confront the thing inside. Bazine doesn't need a verbal answer from you. She can see it in your now frightened face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello? I'm sorry? I promise the next update won't take 4 months! The storyline wasn't working with me so I had to step away from it for a bit. But! We're good now.
> 
> Thanks for your patience ♡ I hope you're still enjoying the story!  
> —  
> EDIT: I didn't think the love scene was long enough so I added about 500 more words.


	4. If You Sail Away

Moon cycles! You don't need a translation; you understand exactly what Bazine is trying to ask after. Apparently merfolk suffer from morning sickness, too. But...you can't be _pregnant;_ that is _stupid_ and _impossible._

…Right?

Because you are (not) on birth control.

Because you have (not) been using protection.

Because you’re not even the same _species!_

_“I didn't even think it was possible to form a bond with a human…”_

You vaguely recall Kylo's idle musings from the first and only time you were in a bed together. He assumed that he couldn't bond with a human and you… well, from that you assumed that you couldn't get pregnant by a mermaid. But he _did_ form a bond with a human, and so...

It's suddenly gotten harder to breathe.

Shooting out of your chair, you pace a nervous path across the room and chew on your lip. You don't want a child, especially not _now._ How the hell would you even care for it? You imagine sprinkling fish food into an aquarium where a baby mermaid lies curled at the bottom. It's such an absurd thought that you burst into panicked laughter. You could cry. You _are_ going to cry. What are you going to tell Kylo…? You can't tell him! You have to tell him.

His potential reaction to the would-be news is just as nerve-wracking as the news itself. You have no idea how he would react—it's not like you've talked about this sort of thing yet. Actually, there are a lot of things you two haven't talked about that you probably should have at this point. A fact that Kylo especially will soon come to regret.

Speaking of the devil, the panic leaking through the bond has piqued Kylo's concern and you hurriedly send him false reassurances. Of course he doesn't seem to buy them, so you can only hope that he won't be able to check on you before you can get your thoughts in order.

Bazine watches you pace through her silver slitted eyes and furrowed brows.

“We could have you examined,” she offers tentatively.

You scoff. “By who? Dr. Ursula the OB/GYN?”

“...We have healers.”

“Even still, Bazine, I can't leave this room without Kylo and _he can't know!_ He's under enough stress—worried enough about me already. I don't want to bother him with a _maybe,”_ you ramble, throwing your hands about.

_“Udesii, kandosii'la._ Calm down,” she soothes as she moves into the way of your pacing. “I'll find someone—dissscreetly—and bring them to you. Let me help you.”

Her cool hands rest on your shoulders to give you a comforting squeeze. You sigh and nod at her, eyes downcast.

Kylo comes to you that evening to find out why you were so upset earlier, but you can't do more than shake your head when you look into his tired, bloodshot eyes. You can't drop this potential bombshell on him when he has so much else to worry about—like what to do with you now that his plans to turn you have failed.

What a fucking mess this all is.

If you don't think _it_ then he can't discover _it,_ so you tell him that something crazy happened to your favorite character in a skit you were watching and you just got caught up in the emotions. You fill your mind with thoughts of that merman mummer and hope it lends some credibility to your story. Alas, the emperor is too astute. The muscles in his jaw grow taut as you lie to his face.  

You can feel how his frustration is straining against the calm, comforting thoughts you've layered over the bond and, coupled with his increasingly sharp glare, you almost fold under the pressure. Almost.

Instead, you hug him tightly and make sure to keep your face pressed against him so you don't have to look into those discerning eyes.

“It's nothing, really. It's okay. It's nothing,” you lie again, voice thick with unshed tears.

He huffs, wanting to be angry at the lie and at your obstinacy, but can't bring himself to overpower his concern for you and your obvious distress. He's going to try to be patient and trust you'll come to him when you're ready. In the meantime, he engulfs you in his strong arms and drops comforting kisses into your hair.

-*-

Bazine makes good on her word and returns to you two days later with an older naga female. You have to bite your lips to contain your sardonic laughter because she actually does resemble Ursula with her plump body and shocking white hair. Even her scales are violet. The naga healer bows to you, hissing soft syllables in another language. It doesn't seem like she speaks English.

_“Ner kandosii'la,_ this is Bebake Jinn. She wants to know how you've been feeling,” Bazine translates.

You fidget, watching as the healer slithers around you and sweeps her eyes across your body. “I still get sick in the mornings… sometimes I'm congested… uh, always tired.”

Before examining you, the healer asks that you undress, which you're opposed to until Bazine agrees to stay on the other side of the kelp curtains while you and the good doctor retreat to your nest. You try not to feel too self-conscious under her scrutiny. She peers down at your breasts before taking them in her hands, making you squeal and flinch away in surprise. She gasps and releases you.

_“Ni'm Ni ceta, Ni'm Ni ceta,”_ she says, holding her hands up apologetically.

You gulp and try to shrug the tension from your shoulders. You square them up and nod at her to continue before staring intently at a spot on the wall.

“S-sorry. Go ahead,” you murmur.

She slowly brings her hands back to your chest and kneads you mechanically. This time you try not to flinch away from the chill seeping off her fingers. She moves to touch your nipples, not meeting your eyes as she asks a question.

“She wants to know if you're sore,” Bazine calls out and you shake your head.

_“Nayc,”_ you respond. “Not really…”

Dr. Ursula moves her clawed hands down your sides and presses her fingers into your belly, poking and prodding as you hold in a shudder and stare at the wall. She hisses another comment.

“You are _too soft,_ she says.”

“Wha—? But...So I like food! What does that matter?” you grump.

”I-I don't think that's what she means, _kandosii'la.”_ Bazine seems just as flustered by the situation as you are.

Bebake circles to your back and flicks her forked tongue over the skin at your shoulder blades, making you jump in surprise again. She says something to Bazine who responds in the negative.

“What is it?”

Bazine hums curiously before answering, “She's not sure if you have the, ah… _klesir taap._ Forgive me, _kandosii'la._ I don't know the words, but it seems like you do not _smell_ like you're with child.”

Your shoulders sag with relief as the healer makes another comment. “Oh, thank the Stars!”

Bazine goes back and forth with Bebake for a moment before repeating what sounds like a question.

“Ah! No, I misunderstood,” she finally says to you. “You don't smell _at all,_ so…you either _don't_ _have_ the—the scenting place or you _do have_ …”

She trails off. It's Bebake's turn to squeal as you vomit all over her tail.

-*-

Kylo goes to you again that night and the next and the one after that until his warm kisses and gentle reassurances finally break you down.

“Ithinkimpregnant,” you whisper the word(s) to the floor in a rush, wringing your hands so hard that your bones ache.

It's quiet for too long, so you brave a glance at the emperor. He doesn't look angry or upset like you expected. His eyes… are _laughing—_ the fucker! He shakes his dark head and actually _chuckles_ at you, you silly thing. Your brow furrows in confusion and maybe a little irritation.

“W-what? I'm serious! Stop laughing, this isn't funny!”

He holds up his left hand and splays the fingers apart, gesturing for you to do the same with your right hand. You hold your much smaller hand up to his and he attempts to intertwine your fingers, an impossible task due to the webbing in between each of his. He gives you a pointed look.

It's just not possible when your forms don't match.

You puff out a heavy sigh, body sagging as every muscle simultaneously relaxes...but you can't help thinking—

“What about the bond? You said that it wasn't possible to bond with a human, but _that_ happened anyway,” you say.

His eyes widen slightly at the doubt your words suddenly plant in his head, but then he shakes it away, as if to say ‘ _No, that's different.’_ After you give him a skeptical look, he takes your shoulders and turns your back to him, enfolding you in his arms. He dips his head to press his cheek to yours and drapes one arm across your ribs, under your breasts. His other hand presses against your belly. Your heart skips a beat as he just holds it there, just waits.

After a few moments, he projects something across the bond and it takes you a second to understand exactly what it is. It's _nothing,_ but... it has substance. Like an empty ocean. There's water, but nothing in it. Kylo doesn't feel anything and, as in tune as he is with all living things, he should. He kisses your cheek and turns you back around to look at him, eyes still smiling.

You don't know how to feel. You're definitely ~~disappointed~~ relieved, for one thing…

Kylo strokes his scaly knuckles up your arm and gives you a kiss goodnight on your forehead, but you can't bear to watch him leave just yet. You don't want to be alone right now. Your solid grip around his wrist makes him pause to look back at you.

“ ...can I stay with you awhile?”

There’s no way the emperor can deny you once he looks into your eyes and sees the naked vulnerability within them. He takes you back to his nest where he holds you close enough to hear his steady heartbeat. You miss his deep rumble of a voice, so he talks to you about his favorite human artifacts and where he found them. He tells you about his day, how one of his idiot advisors fell asleep in a meeting and pissed himself when Kylo woke him up with an imperial glare. As he talks, he admires your soft features, counts the eyelashes that rest on your cheeks when your eyes close, traces the shape of your lips with his eyes. The affection he feels for you in this moment is so great, it ripples through the bond and brings a small smile to your face. His grip on you tightens slightly and he indulges in a matching smile for himself, too.  

Kylo never thought he'd have room in his heart—in his _destiny—_ for something like this. It makes him all the more determined to hold on to it, more determined to find a way for you to spend _every_ night in his arms like this. He silently vows to never stop searching for an answer for as long as you'll wait for him.   

You start to doze off and he cradles you in his arms to reluctantly return you to your room.

Almost immediately, you choke at the first gasp of air and Kylo has to hover in the archway, watching helplessly as you double over and start coughing wetly until you gag. When you lose your dinner across the floor, Kylo screams into the hall for a trooper patrol to fetch Bazine. Guilt sits heavy in his chest, winding around his heart and lungs and making it hard to breathe, as he watches the naga tend to you. The waterbreathing charm must be taking a toll on your body. A toll you're having to pay because _he keeps failing_ to fulfill his promise to you.

The emperor reaches for his trident on reflex only to growl angrily when he remembers he left it in his chambers. He needs a release for his frustrations. With a silent apology to you, he swims off to find one.

Your health declines exponentially after that. Lungs heavy with mucus, constricted by sickness, your breath is constantly strained into shallow wheezing. You sleep more and eat less and as the week goes on, it becomes undeniable that something is very, _very_ wrong with you.

Bazine and Bebake do the utmost to nurse you back to health. They try to keep you hydrated and fed, to alleviate your symptoms. You slurp down viscous, sharp-smelling fluids to help with the coughing fits and sleep with a neon gel smeared on your forehead to keep the fever down. Kylo consults with the palace healers and has them work with Bebake to develop a treatment plan for you. None of them know anything about human biology, but they do know that their lives are on the line regardless and try their damnedest to figure out something that works.

Nothing seems to.

They eventually have to tell the emperor the hard truth of the matter. His silent, stone-faced response somehow seems more frightening than his usual outbursts of violence.

-*-

On Day Four of this Bullshit, you stare down at the tiny ghostly Kylo hovering over the scrying mirror in your hand through blurred vision. You reach out mentally to his flesh and blood counterpart only to find that he's hiding behind that weird static again. The fucking _audacity!_ You whip that damn mirror into the wall with a scream and as it shatters, so does your heart.

_“Kandosii'la!”_ A worried Bazine rushes to your side, eyes shifting from the glass shards scattered on the floor to your crumpled form on the anemone.

You're dragged into a coughing fit—Gods, you can't even cry properly—and unable to answer her as you choke out hacking sobs.

“Fuck,” you wheeze after it subsides, crushing the papillae in your fists and pinching your eyes shut.

Bazine strokes your back and coos, _“Meg ru'banar, kandosii'la?_ What happened?”

“He—” Another sob. “He wants to take me back to the surface, back 'home’! But _this_ is my home!”

Even now, your words feel hollow when you consider that you've only known isolation and discomfort since living in Coruscant. Well, not “only”...

_“He's_ my home,” you whimper.

The next few times Kylo calls on you, you hide away in your nest and refuse to see him. You know you're being stubborn, but you're hurting. Surely these magical sea creatures can find a cure for whatever virus this is. Why is he so quick to give up, to send you away? They just need time. Kylo vehemently disagrees. He can't watch you wither away, losing weight and losing color, when he can do something about it.

As loathe as he is to show vulnerability, to show _weakness,_ especially to you, he’s finally able to convince you when he opens the bond again to show you how much he's hurting, how every night he’s haunted by nightmares of what would happen should he lose you.

Eventually, the fear for the well-being of you both wins out over your obstinacy and when Kylo comes to you the night before your journey back, you don't hesitate to hold him close. He holds you delicately, making note of how weak your grasp is now, trying to ignore your sickly pallor and labored, wheezing breaths. Seeing you like this reaffirms that he's doing the right thing, but it isn't any less painful.

-*-

When you awaken on Judgement Day, you're in the dark and alone. Your first few breaths turn into wet, barking coughs and you have to spit the mucus that comes up into the basin that's now designated to your sickly bodily fluids. You stumble weakly from your nest into the main room, noticing that the ocean outside the window seems dimmer than it should be. Wasn't Kylo supposed to collect you by now? You pour yourself some water and drink it slowly, eyes already threatening to close again. You feel cotton-headed and bone-weary as you slump heavily at your table, trying to focus on breathing. It is _so hard._ No matter how many breaths you take, your lungs just refuse to fucking _fill._ Did Bazine let you sleep so late that you missed your regular dosage of medicine? A worrisome thought since she's usually so adamant about you taking your medicine at the proper intervals, whether you're sleeping or not.

Your musings are interrupted by the burbling door. Thinking it must be finally be Bazine or the healer, you make the grave mistake of opening it without looking through the portholes.

Not that it matters, ultimately. Knocking for entry was a courtesy.

The door opens to reveal the usual wall of water. The figure beyond is blurry, but looks nothing like Bazine despite—they're too light compared to her dark coloring. Metallic, even. They slither over the threshold and you take a step back in surprise, mouth forming a small “oh”. A naga male with alabaster skin and copper scales now towers over you. Cool, sea green eyes regard you with a look that chills you down to the bone.

_Hatred._ Sheer hatred.

You're confused and now a little scared. You've never met this stranger before; what reason could he possibly have to feel so strongly about you? He continues to slide further into the room and you continue to back away, suddenly feeling like a rabbit cornered by a fox.

“H-hello,” you greet him for lack of anything better to say.

“Hello,” Hux replies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You just can't catch a break, can you? ^_^'  
> —  
> EDIT: Just massaged the writing a bit because I'm never satisfied!!! :) :) Sorry, I'll try not to make these edits a habit...


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